Owe The Hobo
by Renachi
Summary: Diaspro had always looked for the perfect boyfriend to match her perfect self, and when she meets Prince Sky, she thinks she's found him. Then she meets Brandon, the hobo. Oneshot. AU


_Disclaimer: You know what goes here..._

**Owe The Hobo**

**_By: Renachi_**

**_Beta: xxxMusarockz_**

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><p>Diaspro had climbed her way up to the top of the fashion industry, and even though some people gave all the credit to her success to her wealthy father, an advisor to the king, and her upbringing, she liked to think that she deserved the credit.<p>

It was hard to upkeep her flawless reputation as a perfect woman. Part of being perfect meant having the perfect personality filled with kindness, a major hurdle for the powerful woman. She couldn't help but have a natural aggressiveness and overbearing. Of course, she had instances where she could be kind. After all, wasn't she being merciful when she pointed out to her friends that the colors of their dresses resembled a hideous mole rat?

Mole rats =the creatures of ugliness.

Anyways, all Diaspro needed now was the perfect boyfriend with a sophisticated upbringing and a high social standing to match "moi", herself. However, she faced a huge hurdle. Her biggest dilemma was that every guy on the face of the planet turned out to be an utter idiot. When they were handsome, they lacked the personality. When they had the personality they lacked the brains. When they had the brains, they lacked the looks. It was a maddening cycle. Then Diaspro saw the Prince.

Oh yes…Prince Sky posed as the perfect guy. He was deemed to be unreachable, too beautiful to even touch with his gentle cerulean eyes and golden hair.

Diaspro disagreed with the female population on that fact. She thought that the guy looked like the classic douche bag, far from untouchable, but her opinion didn't matter when it came to the perfect guy. If other people thought he was perfect, then he was perfect. Plus, if she married the guy, she would become a Princess, so not only would she be rich, she would also be royal. Diaspro finally decided to make her move one day and meet the Prince by setting up a business appointment to discuss the Prince's wardrobe.

Then the worst had to happen: her limo broke down. For the sake of being punctual she had to travel through some damp, smelly, rat infested alley to get to the castle. Why such a horrid alley existed so near to the castle left her stumped. Diaspro decided that she would definitely erase the disgusting alley off the face of the map when she became the Princess.

Her heels clicked as she tried to maneuver past all the puddles lining the walkway while she grumbled about her miserable day. The task proved to be difficult because of the lack of sunlight in the narrow path.

"Hey girl," some drunkard approached her with lewd eyes, eyeing her voluptuous bosom. Diaspro rolled her eyes. Who got drunk in the middle of the day when the sun was still out? "Want to play with us?"

A group of six more guys, who were unfortunately not drunk, stepped into view with wicked smiles painting their ugly faces. Diaspro could smell the cigarette smoke emanating from them. "Step out of my way you hoodlums," Diaspro dictated with a dignified high head, "and I won't report you."

"Report us!" the guys cackled like hyenas.

"Dear, the king doesn't even know how to deal with us," the drunkard slurred, meeting his gaze with Diaspro's hot eyes. "Now aren't you a hot, little, cute thing. Play with us."

"Step out of the way," Diaspro warned with her voice still proud. Her firm, confident stare didn't deviate as she stared the guys down. She would die before she succumbed to hoodlums, no goods to the society. Then the group started to ease closer and before she knew it, they made a tight circle. Their laughs sounded like cacophony. Fear flickered across her eyes but Diaspro didn't show helplessness because once she showed her weak side, she would lose.

"Step out," she repeated. Then one of them speared her neck. His large hand easily encompassed her dainty neck. Diaspro gasped as he choked her and pain flashed through her like lightning.

"Not so tough now," the guy sneered. "I'll rape her first." The others snorted and groaned in disagreement but a dangerous glare easily ended their whines. "Well then. Let's see that fair skin of yours." The woman finally broke down and tears started to pool in her golden eyes as the man grabbed the shoulder of her white oxford shirt with his free hand and pulled it down. She cringed when she heard the rough rip.

_It's over. My life is over._

Suddenly the man fell over and released grip on her throat. The shocked guys jumped into a ready position but their reaction speed proved inadequate. One after another they fell and to Diaspro, the whole event looked like a whirlwind, a tornado. She couldn't believe her eyes. Only things like she saw happened in movies. One guy took out seven people in just a few seconds. Diaspro had to close her eyes as she violently hacked and rubbed her throat with the worry that red marks showed.

Excited, she looked upwards when her savior finally knocked all her tormenters out, eager to thank her knight in shining armor. She expected to see a beautiful man with a ripped muscle and a dashing, windswept haircut, and maybe even a cape. That is why she felt horrified when she saw him, but her expression quickly changed to embarrassment.

Standing before her was an uncouth man with disheveled hair in a bunch of tangles and knots. A goatee grew from his chin that looked like a live furry animal. Diaspro swore that she saw something move in his beard. Was it a tick? The smell of vomit radiated from the guy. Dressed in a oversize white rag, a dirty plaid jacket, and faded jeans with ten holes, her so called savior gave a quick glance at the victimized woman and cocked a busy eyebrow.

"You owe me," the hobo whispered.

"Uh…here." Desperate to leave so that she wouldn't catch any lice or disease the guy had, Diaspro quickly dug into her purse and searched for change or bills. To her horror, she found nothing. Then she realized that she always used credit cards. Stupid her. "Look, here's my business card. Come by and I'll pay you back. I have to go now so bye."

Diaspro immediately dashed away as fast as her slim legs could take her. She was definitely late to her appointment with the Prince.

ººº

Diaspro hummed with happiness as she sat in her limo on her way to work. The appointment with Prince Sky went splendidly. He bought her weak lie that red marks on necks and ripped sleeves on button up shirts were in style. It was probably the only time she sincerely praised that the guy of her interest was dumb. She also managed to earn a few points with him. What a bonus.

As she stepped out of the limo, a gravelly voice sounded, "Hello." Right in front of her eyes stood the same kung-fu fighting hobo.

"Ah! You're here!" Diaspro cheered in a sing-song voice. Even the appearance of a hobo infested with lice and ticks couldn't ruin her mood. "Come in, come in." The front guard seemed hesitant to let the guy in at first. When Diaspro got in, she extracted a wad of cash from the receptionist and handed it over.

"Here. Are we even now?"

The hobo frowned. "I don't want money."

Diaspro frowned. What on earth did the guy want then? Then she had an epiphany. He wanted a makeover! Of course! Why didn't she realize before. "Come with me?"

She took the hobo over the salon and spa next door, it was filled with the scent of herbal shampoo and alcohol.

"I want you to give this…"

"Brandon," the hobo informed.

"…Brandon, a makeover." She couldn't help but empathize with the lady at the front desk when she grimaced. "Don't worry. I thought the same thing when I first saw him."

And so Brandon transformed from a hobo to a hottie. The process wasn't very gentle though. Diaspro couldn't help but roll her eyes behind her Winx Club Magazine when Brandon squeaked when the esthetician waxed his eyebrows. "You're a guy. Beauty comes with pain. Deal with it."

"I never said I wanted to become beautiful," was his response.

After cleaning up the hobo's natural appearance and getting rid of all his lice, Diaspro started on creating his nonexistent wardrobe. When she finished compiling his outfits, she decided to dress him in a simple dress shirt and dark jeans.

Brandon looked amazing; it was as if he was a completely different person. The before and after pictures contrasted so drastically that even Diaspro was shocked. In fact, Diaspro thought he was sexy. She discovered that the guy had beautiful brown eyes and realized that he also had a ripped body.

"This is the power of fashion everybody." Diaspro gazed at Brandon like a piece of art; an approving smile fell on her face.

"I didn't ask for _this._"

The smile immediately disappeared, now replaced with a frown. "What? You tell me this now?"

"I said it before but you didn't listen!" Brandon defended with a scowl.

"Then what do you want?"

"…I don't know. I want something. I just don't know."

Annoyed, Diaspro rolled her eyes and scowled. "I'm not just going to patiently wait for you," she snapped and walked out of the store. "I'm wasting my time."

"Wait!" Brandon called out, but Diaspro didn't wait. She _never_ waited for anybody, _ever_. However, Brandon had all the time in the world, plus he had stubbornness. Day after day, he followed Diaspro everywhere. He would sleep outside her condo at night and follow her to work every morning till Diaspro finally cracked.

"YOU! GET IN!"

A single push began the story of their cohabitation.

The condo was roomy and two people could easily live together in it. Long windows giving a view of the animated city lined one side of the living room opposite from the entrance. All day long, the place was filled with natural sunlight. There was one living room, a kitchen directly connected to the living, a bathroom, and a bedroom.

Of course, living together came with a contract. But since Diaspro was kind, she decided to make the contract lenient.

**Brandon shall never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER set a foot into Diaspro's bedroom.**

**Brandon shall never ever set a foot into Diaspro's side of the bathroom.**

**Brandon shall not trash the condo.**

**Brandon shall never ever steal food from Diaspro's meager kitchen.**

**Brandon shall not set a foot in Diaspro's kitchen.**

**Brandon shall not take any of Diaspro's possessions or use them without permission.**

**Brandon shall do his share of chores which involves vacuuming the living room once per day.**

"Oh finally, a condition that doesn't begin with either 'Brandon shall never' or 'Brandon shall not'," the man cheered.

**Brandon shall not bother Diaspro, EVER!**

**Brandon shall not make any sounds at night.**

**Brandon shall do everything Diaspro says.**

**If Brandon breaks any of the conditions above, he will be promptly kicked out of the house.**

"And that's it! Nice aren't I? I only wrote ten conditions." Diaspro blinked with innocent eyes.

"Ten conditions of…DOOM," he darkly muttered as his hands quivered with the pen in his grip.

"Now sign!" she enthusiastically ordered.

"Yes, yes. Brandon shall do everything Diaspro says." And with Brandon's signature, the contract was finalized. A thundering growl arose from Brandon's belly and Brandon cracked a weak smile.

"I'll go order some take out." Diaspro sighed and swiftly flipped her cell phone open.

That's how Brandon began his life as a woman's servant or more specifically, a woman's dog. Diaspro told him to stop following her to work or go out for that matter, unless she gave him a "walk", effectively chaining him down to the condo.

Every day, Brandon eagerly welcomed the woman home like a dog with a wagging tail. Diaspro felt her heart warm when she saw someone welcome her home though she swore that the only reason he looked so happy when she came home was because she had take out from a fancy restaurant every single day. He whined she left as well.

Their act slowly became a routine after a few months and Brandon secretly became an important part of her life. At some point, Diaspro stopped viewing the guy as a disgusting hobo and actually cared for him. At the same time, Diaspro's relationship with Prince Sky flourished.

"Brandon! Brandon! Prince Sky and I are eating together tomorrow afternoon!" she squealed one night. Brandon sighed as she forced him to endure another one of her "OMG! Prince Sky!" episodes. "You know…I think I may actually be falling in love with the guy. I didn't really like him that much at first but now…now…I do. He's a nice guy."

"No offense, but I don't think the Prince is for you."

Diaspro darkened and narrowed her gaze. "Are you saying I'm not good enough for him?"

"No. The opposite, you are too good for him." She rolled her eyes. "You two just…don't suit each other," Brandon awkwardly phrased.

"Why? We suit each other perfectly! We are both rich, beautiful, and…well…perfect, which is why I decided to pursue him in the first place. He's perfect. I'm perfect. We're a perfect match."

"I mean beyond the surface. Your personality doesn't match his," Brandon explained with frustration.

"How would you know? You're just a hobo," Diaspro angrily snapped as her brows furrowed. "You don't even know him."

Brandon gave a sigh of resignation. "I guess you're right," he grumbled as he watched Diaspro's face light up with victory.

Every time she came to gush about the Prince, Brandon would spend the rest of night silently muttering about how stupid he, himself, was. Brandon felt the pang of guilt grow stronger and sharper every time Diaspro reported on her escalating relationship with Prince Sky. The reason was because he knew a secret, a secret Diaspro finally found out a month later.

Diaspro angrily stormed into condo that evening and rashly flung her purse on the couch, Brandon's appointed bed.

"HE! The Prince! He…" Diaspro yelled with an uneven voice as she tried to form her sentences.

"Diaspro," he whispered.

"He is dating some bitch named Bloom! He told me today! He confided to me! It turns out I'm just a good friend so he assumed that he could tell me about Bloom. He is the densest guy on earth because for the past month, I've been trying so hard to show him how I feel, and that bitch just comes in and destroys everything. Everything was all pristine, it was all perfect! Bloom! Bloom Peters! That's her name…I'll destroy her," Diaspro dangerously growled with her tear stained face. A constant stream of tears flowed from her eyes. Luckily, her makeup was waterproof.

"Diaspro, you shouldn't."

"Are you on her side?" Diaspro accused.

"No. I'm just saying that no matter what you do, Sky isn't going to fall in love with you. If you destroy her, you will get nothing. You won't feel rewarded. Nothing. Nada."

"I'll be satisfied!"

"And when that satisfaction disappears, you will find yourself sunken in a darker place. It isn't worth it. Give up Sky, Diaspro." Brandon was stern yet full of gentleness as he spoke to Diaspro. As Diaspro exploded into sobs, Brandon took a fatherly role. He comforted her by rhythmically stroking her soft blonde hair.

Somewhere along the way, she had fallen asleep while she was crying and for the first time Brandon broke the contract, unbeknownst to Diaspro; he entered Diaspro's room and tucked her into bed.

Their relationship as dog and master started to change when Brandon entered that room. With Sky gone from her heart, she now had more free time. She spent more time at home with Brandon and they had more fun talks and nights eating take out, again.

Then Brandon's stomach growled like a tiger one day. The annoying growl bothered Diaspro to no end. It screamed, "IT IS ALL YOUR FAULT THAT BRANDON IS HUNGRY!" Diaspro experienced a rare emotion, guilt.

"I only give Brandon take out every night. For breakfast, all he ever eats is a slice of bread and a banana. I don't even let him out of the house when he wants to go. What kind of a person am I?" she talked to herself one night, trying to go to sleep.

The next day she bought groceries. Diaspro had never cooked before. Sure, she had made a sandwich before and cooked spaghetti, but she had never actually cooked _something_.

She had searched up a recipe called Ravioli with Arugula, Tomatoes and Pancetta on . Diaspro had brought it home once and Brandon had said he loved the heavenly dish which is why Diaspro decided to make the dish. The other reason she picked the dish was because the reviews said it was easy.

Brandon could only watch with bewilderment as he witnessed the strangest thing in the word, Diaspro cooking in with an apron and everything.

"Uh…Diaspro…what are you doing?"

"Cooking," she mumbled as she carefully sliced the pancetta. "No! I sliced it too big." As Diaspro grumbled, Brandon got up and entered the kitchen, officially breaking the contract. He reached for the knife in Diaspro's hand from behind her. Diaspro shivered as she felt his body press up against her and his warm breath on her nape.

"Let me cut," he whispered.

"No!" Diaspro childishly whined. "I want to cook."

Brandon's brows furrowed with confusion before he froze with fear. "Oh…shit. Oh…shit." Brandon quickly retreated from the kitchen with a frantic step while Diaspro stared.

"What's wrong?"

Uncomfortable silence lingered in the air for a moment. "Uh…The contract…I broke it," he hesitantly pointed out.

Diaspro froze as she submerged into thought. The contract…She pondered the current problem. According to the contract, if Brandon broke any of the conditions, even if it were on accident, he would have to leave the condo. But, the problem was that Diaspro didn't want him to leave. She wanted him to stay right next to her as always. Her eyes brightened as she came to a revelation.

She loved him.

The way she felt towards him was different from any other feeling she had ever felt towards a guy. It was more pure like a dove. Instead of being infatuated, Diaspro felt selfless. Even though he wasn't perfect and defied all the list of traits she had written on what her future husband needed to have, she still loved him nevertheless. That fact was, all she needed to make the next decision.

"The contract is void."

"What?" Brandon narrowed his eyes and touched his ears with uncertainty, afraid that he was going deaf.

"The contract is void," she repeated.

That was the end to their dog and master relationship.

The two never told each other how they felt but somehow, they had a certain understanding on how the other felt. Diaspro definitely could feel affection in Brandon's words when he would whisper, "You are cute."

For the first time, Diaspro could say that she was honestly content and happy with Brandon by her side. To her, he was not a wandering hobo anymore or a pet dog. He was her best friend, a buddy that she cherished and cared for. With him, Diaspro felt like she could tear down her perfect façade that she had kept up for years and years because she knew that he would accept her. She could tell him anything.

However, she had a feeling that her feelings weren't reciprocated. Brandon might have loved her but there was something important he kept from her. The way he stared off into space when they talked at times or the flicker of apprehension in his eyes when he smiled, hinting at the secret. Diaspro had asked if anything was bothering him one time and he immediately denied it.

Diaspro kept asking him because leaving such a bothersome question unanswered left an unsettling taste in her mouth. Again and again, he said nothing was wrong, but something was wrong. Finally, he told her.

"Diaspro, I need to tell you something important." Diaspro froze at first but then released the tension in her muscles and urged Brandon to continue. "I have to leave."

Eyes wide, she blurted, "Why?"

"I need to go back to the palace, Diaspro." She froze. "When you met me, I had been undercover as a hobo to investigate why there was a sudden increase of crime rate around the palace. I had reported all the information I had gathered the morning when I saved you. I was supposed to go back to the castle that day but I didn't. Instead, I met you. I've stalled and kept my bosses waiting for a long time already. If I push it any further, I'll be in trouble."

There was nothing Diaspro could do or say. She just silently sat in shock when Brandon mumbled sorry and disappeared from her life. When Brandon left, he took a piece of her with him. He ripped her heart out. It took weeks for Diaspro to return back to normal and to accept the fact that what they had wasn't meant to be.

During that time, she received an invitation to go to Prince Sky and _Princess _Bloom's wedding. She considered going but decided not to just in case she had any residue of affection left for the Prince. Murdering Bloom on her wedding day would definitely ruin her life for good.

After a few months, Diaspro had returned to her normal life as if Brandon had never existed in it. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't erase the big mark, the huge footprint that he had left in her life. After all, he was the first person that she honestly loved with her whole heart. To run away from Brandon and stay away from the condo filled with memories, she sunk into her work.

"Diaspro, today we have interviews for picking male models for our company," her secretary informed her with a monotone voice. She nodded in acknowledgement, and headed to the room which her secretary pointed her towards.

"Ok! Interviewee number 1! Tell us about you," Diaspro ordered as she sat in an uncomfortable metal chair with her elbows propped up on table in front of her, next to files and papers. As the model talked, it was hard for her to refrain from comparing him to Brandon and his awesome body.

"Thank you. We will contact you. Next." The interviews continued, on and on, but every guy who came in made her shake her head in disapproval.

_No. No. No. This isn't what I'm looking for._

Diaspro heaved a long sigh when she realized that she was not going to get anywhere if she kept comparing every guy to Brandon.

_It is their fault for not being better than Brandon._

"Next! Interviewee number ni…" Diaspro exploded from her chair like a bullet.

"Brandon!"

"You going to welcome me back home?" Brandon gave an amused smirk and came closer and closer till his hands leaned against the edge of the table. His body leaned closer and closer till his face was only inches away from Diaspro's face.

"Brandon," she whimpered. "Why are you back? Go away."

"Well, that was unfriendly." A frown marred his face as she leaned back, away from him.

"You're going to torture me again, aren't you? You're going to come for a short time and then leave. If you're going to do that, don't come back. So just go away, won't you? You're a pest." Diaspro's face was void of any emotion. Her voice and countenance stayed firm.

"I'm not going to disappear anymore because I lost my job," Brandon explained. "I got fired because I took too long to complete my last mission. So…I'm actually a hobo now."

Awkward silence filled the room, and Diaspro inwardly thanked her secretary for arranging no other judges to sit in the room when the interviews were going on. "How lame. You lost your job…" Diaspro started.

"Come on…snookums. I need a place to stay or I'll become all smelly and disgusting like I was before." Diaspro shuddered at the thought of Brandon reverting to his original, smelly hobo form.

"Fine, I'll let you in on one condition."

Brandon's eyes rose with curiosity. "Which is?"

"Well, actually ten conditions. You're signing another contract."

Brandon pondered on her proposal for a while before replying with a forced, "Fine," with a grumble.

"You know, I'm actually glad you aren't perfect. I'm glad you aren't a Prince. I'm glad you aren't rich. I'm glad you aren't a superstar that everyone loves. I'm glad that you are you. "

Brandon grinned and reached out for a hug which Diaspro rudely rejected.

"Because if you were perfect, I would feel guilty about doing this," she finished. At the note, she walked to the other side of the table and stamped on his foot.

"Next!" she called as Brandon howled in pain.

"S-so? You don't hate me?" Brandon stuttered as he clutched his foot. The next interviewee walked in.

"Men are idiots. No. I still love you, so you better not leave again."

Brandon grinned. "Never."

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><p><em>So what do you think? Cliche? Disgustingly sappy? ...Fluffy? Don't be too shy now. <em>


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